My entire account was deleted from facebook this morning. If you know my history at all, you know that I've had photos removed numerous times from facebook, because of perceived indecency. My photos thus far were all art related, because I feel inspired by motherhood, nursing, and the human figure. I love breastfeeding art; I think it's a wonderful female perspective on figurative art, and I continued posting it despite repeated warnings. You might also remember that I was featured by a few different media sources concerning these early removals of my paintings. Here is my interview with Sheila Coles on CBC, "The Story from Here", (just go to "listen, part two.) Here is also the article written in the Toronto Star on the subject of my facebook deletions. This morning I heard more details on the fact that fellow breastfeeding advocate Emma Kwasnica had her account deleted, and I felt so angry. I also felt ashamed- because, although I have posted many breastfeeding paintings, and although I am a huge advocate for breastfeeding, I had never had the courage to post a photo of myself breastfeeding. I've always been a little shy about my own body. This is a fact that may surprise you, since I've painted a few nude self portraits, and since I used to pose for life drawing classes, but I never felt very brave about posting breastfeeding photos of myself. This morning I felt ashamed. I looked at Emma's photo, and remembered ALL her smiling, gorgeous photos, remembered her humour and thoughtful advice... and I thought I have been SUCH a chicken. I felt ashamed for never posting a breastfeeding photo of myself.

SO, I posted this photo as my profile picture. I was just in the process of discussing it with some friends when I was asked to re-log in. I tried to and failed. My account was deleted, and with it many contacts and friends that I am now trying to get back in touch with. It happened so fast I couldn't believe it. I feel more upset than I thought I would. I feel like I've lost a limb. I've lost a lot of people with my facebook account, many people I knew from childhood and have NO idea how to get back in touch with. So friends- my first request (if you haven't already,) please get in touch with me through this webpage.

Thanks to talented artist Amy Swagman there is a group on Facebook to get my account re-instated. Please join this group, "Bring Kate Hansen Back." If you're familiar with art on facebook you might notice that there are many beautiful nude artworks by many many artists. Why are breastfeeding portraits being targeted for removal? I think there is some sexism involved in these removals. I believe that the female perspective is being denied and marginalized by these actions. The breastfeeding mother is a very specifically female perspective on the breast, since it doesn't involve men at all. Perhaps some hatered of breastfeeding women stems from the fact that (some) men feel visually excluded from the nursing dyad; the woman in question is not exposing her breasts for male pleasure, in fact she seems oblivious to the male gaze.

Another photo I uploaded which led to my recent deletion was this one. It's a piece by lesbian artist Catherine Opie, titled "Self Portrait/Nursing." This photograph was almost immediately removed from my fansite and I received the usual letter from Facebook, saying it was "Hateful, Threatening and/or Obscene." In a recent article by popular the popular Blacktating blog, Elita stated that the same photo was removed when a friend of hers posted it on her page. I venture to guess that more than nudity prompted this removal. This woman, a lesbian mother and not petite, is not the typical nude which facebook is willing to promote. She falls outside of the heterosexual male dominated paradigm that we're accustomed to seeing, and facebook is intolerant of that.Finally I want to thank all the friends who have joined in the campaign against my removal. Amy Swagman has been incredibly helpful to me by creating and managing the group I mentioned. Krista Cornish Scott has been phoning me, talking to me and supporting me, so many mothers and women on twitter have expressed their outrage and support. My mother Molly Barber has been incredibly helpful, even looking after my kids today while I write this. I feel so loved and supported by all of you, and I'm incredibly grateful for that.

I was at the 2010 National Exhibition for the Canadian Institute of Portrait Artists at Mount Royal University in Calgary yesterday evening. I had enough airmiles to fly from Comox to Calgary with my kids, stay with family and attend the exhibition, in which I had entered my portrait called "Ailen and Jet-Jazz."

I was glad to have a glass of wine, have a night out without my kids, and meet some wonderful artists at the exhibition. I met Jean Pederson, who is a fabulous Canadian portrait artist. She had entered a beautiful watercolour called "Paper Rose." Ingrid Christiansen is another wonderful figurative artist that I knew from facebook, and was finally able to meet in person. She was actually one of the judges for the event.

Soon everyone gathered around as they announced the prizes for the exhibition. I was hoping I might win for "Excellence in Portraiture using Combined Media." Mine was one of the only portraits using combined media, so I thought I might have a chance in this category. I thought "Oh well." when they announced "Little Pirate," a beautiful encaustic painting by Judy Hilgemann.

Then the award for "Most Innovative Portrait..." they announced Kate Hansen! I couldn't believe it. There was a moment I thought my knees might give out as I accepted the award.

Jean Pederson's work won for "Excellence in Watercolour," so we were both included in the winning artist's photo below.

Here's me looking very happy indeed to be included in such a prestigeous group of artists. It was some night.

I just got in from an airplane trip with my one and a half year old and my three year old. Although it wasn't a long flight, I was really dreading it because I was flying by myself... with two kids. Anyone who has kids understands what amount of gear they come with, as much as you might try to pack light! Here are some essentials which I found extremely useful on our journey.

10. Hoodies- Airplanes can be cold, hoodies are warm and comfortable. You can sleep in them with no discomfort.

9. Small toy airplane- This came in quite useful for explaining what was going on: i.e. the airplane is taking off, the airplane is in some turbulence, the airpane is landing.

8. Baby Wipes- I prefer to use washcloths at home, but baby wipes proved to be indispensable on the airplane, partly to clean the sticky fingers due to...

7. Snacks- This might be fairly obvious, but I was very thankful to have lunch packed, as well as a container of fresh strawberries. It helps pass the time, and most airlines don't serve lunch anymore.

5. A Broad Repertoire of Songs- This may annoy other passengers on board, but songs are an excellent way of boosting morale and keeping kids occupied.

4. Hand puppets- literally. If you have a pen, even a ball point pen, you can draw a simple face onto your closed fist. Just make the closed part between your first finger and your thumb into the mouth, and draw two eyes above it. This puppet can be combined with the previously mentioned repertoire of songs, for maximum annoyance for surrounding passengers, and maximum enjoyment by your children.

3. Maya Sling- This one is very close to the top 10 most useful item for travelling with a baby. I found my sling indispensable. I used it to carry my daughter and keep my hands free for bags and to hold my son's hand. It can also double as a blanket for a tired child, and a nursing cover, if you feel you need one. In a pinch you could even rig it as an extra carry on bag.

2. Lots of Liquids- Unfortunately the new security regulations make it very difficult to provide enough liquid for your children. You cannot bring water or juice onto the plane, but instead need to rely on the airline staff to provide it for you. This means you need to make yourself into a royal pain by demanding larger portions of water, insisting on refills and otherwise annoying the staff as well as other passengers. Of course for younger children there is another source of liquid... which leads to....

1. Two Functioning Breasts- The top most important item for travel with two young children is a pair of functioning breasts. It's common knowledge that the best way to combat the effects of the change in pressure from landing and taking off is by sucking on something. What could be more handy or more versatile than breastfeeding? If you're not breastfeeding you might want to bring a teething toy, a bottle, or some kind of suck-able food item for older kids.

If you happen to be seated beside Barbara Walters just make sure to paste a warm smile on your face, and an armory of breastfeeding slogans on your lips. You have just as much right to breastfeed as your neighbour has to eat in the seat next to you. More in fact, since if you were to cease it might result in a screaming nightmare for every passenger on the flight. It might do well to remind people that on flight breastfeeding is in their own best interests for this reason.

I had some wonderful news recently. I found out I'm participating in a group show called "Mothers" at the Woman Made Gallery in Chicago. My drawing "Gladys and Elizabeth" will be showing alongside other wonderful up and coming female artists on the 5th of November until December 23rd.

Best of all... I'm going to Chicago! I'm going to leave the kids with their wonderful father and hop a flight to the windy city! I'm going to stay a few days, see a few sights, hop a few galleries and attend my own opening. I'm SO thrilled! I will be blogging about all this, so stay tuned.

My other good news is I was accepted into the Canadian Institute of Portrait Artists biannual exhibition! My piece "Ailen and Jet Jazz" will be exhibited at the Mount Royal University, second floor art gallery space at the Bisset School of Business. The show will be up from the 21st of September until October 30th.

The best part of this news is that I have enough airmiles to take me AND the kids to Calgary for the opening and awards ceremony! Once again I'm thrilled. I will take lots of pictures and blog about it afterwards.

To put myself in the mood for Chicago... here's one of my favourite Sinatra songs:

The following is a true account of my son's birth via caesarean on February 21st, 2007. In retrospect I wonder if some of the practices, such as the fetal monitor and the fact they broke my water, were really necessary. I wonder if in another situation things might have gone better with a little less intervention. As it was I still maintain the caesarean was necessary, given these circumstances. I'm including my story in the Madonna and Child Project.

Late at night on the 17th of February I started having labour pains.I had gone to bed early and was sleeping while Kevin was up late painting the nursery.Our baby was due in early March, so we wanted to be ready!I was dreaming that I had my period, and was experiencing menstrual cramps.The “cramps” kept coming in waves and I remember thinking sleepily: “wait a minute!I can’t be having my period.I’m pregnant.”Sure enough I began to time these early contractions, and they were coming in a definite pattern of every 6-7 minutes.I was surprised because it was almost a full 3 weeks before my due date.I woke up and told Kevin to get some sleep.I told him that I was in labour, and if he didn’t sleep now, he may not get any sleep later.Of course this had the opposite effect than I intended!Kevin became quite hyper and agitated, tried to sleep and couldn’t.Every time I had a contraction, (very mild contractions, I knew I had nothing to worry about,) he would look over at me with this expression of concern. Finally I got up and moved to the sofa, in hopes that he would be able to sleep with me gone.While I lay there with my eyes closed, trying to sleep, I could hear and feel him get up numerous times and come and look at me.He was so worried.

The next morning the early, easy labour continued.I had some breakfast as usual and then took the dog for a walk.I was so happy and excited.I smiled at all the neighbours and found it amusing that I was secretly in labour and they didn’t have a clue.I was wearing a massive jacket of Kevin’s (the only thing that fit my pregnant body,) and it was so windy that I felt like a kite floating and flapping on the end of the dog leash.

When I got back home we decided to phone the doctor and our doula.We had decided to have a hospital birth with our family physician and hired a doula to help make the birth as natural as possible.Our plan was to spend as much of the early labour at home as possible, and only go into the hospital when childbirth was imminent.Our doctor was going skiing that day, I remember, and I told him not to worry.Nothing was happening very quickly, I just wanted to give him a heads up.We told our doula not to worry either, and we would call her when we needed her to come over.Meanwhile we ordered a pizza for supper, and tried (unsuccessfully,) to focus on a movie we were watching.At about 10:00 pm the contractions were getting quite strong and regular, and I had to focus and breathe to get through them.We phoned the doula and she arrived soon after.I felt a great deal of pressure on my back and tailbone, and found it helped to be on all fours.When the doula arrived she immediately tried some pressure points on the sides of my hips, and the pain was instantly relieved.I was amazed!She was also able to help with acupressure, positions and visualization techniques.

The labour seemed to be going on the same rate, not increasing in intensity, so we decided to stay home another night.The doula rested on the couch, and I tried to sleep.Of course none of us really slept, and at about 5:00am we packed up to go to the hospital.It appeared at that point that things were very intense.The contractions were happening every three or four minutes, and lasting at least a minute.I was so sore in the tail bone area that I was unable to sit fully in the car, and had to kind of hold myself up with my hands.At this point it was snowing very heavily.We lived in a small mountain community, Crowsnest Pass, AB. and we were concerned about the roads on the way to the hospital.They had not been plowed yet at that point.When we got to the hospital the nurses checked me and found that I was only dilated 4 cm!I was so disappointed, and would haveprobably went home, except for the fact that the snow was coming down so hard that we were worried about the feasibility of getting back to the hospital later.We spent the next few hours pacing the halls, stopping and breathing through contractions.The contractions had become quite painful, and I found I was making quite a bit of noise through them.I laughed at one point, imagining of some poor person lying in the room nearby, wondering who was moaning outside his door.

As things progressed I was moved to a labour and delivery room, I spent what felt like an eternity there, unable to sit down as more and more pressure was centered on my tailbone.It felt almost like an electric shock if I sat down or lay down during a contraction.I spent the whole time on my hands and knees, squatting or standing.My husband was indispensable, holding me when I needed to be held, holding my hand, rubbing my back. I noticed I felt a lot of pain on my lower left side, and mentioned it, but no one seemed to know what to do about that.The doctor decided to break my water, in the hopes of speeding up the process, but no luck.The contractions worsened, and I even dilated to about 8 or 9 cm, but still no baby.It went on like this until finally there seemed to be a drop in my baby’s heart rate. Thy listened as the heartbeat slowed then stopped for a few moments. It was awful.I decided right then and there to get my baby out.It was about 5:00am at this point, and they decided to schedule the c section for about 8:00am.Waiting for that c section, hearing my baby’s heart rate drop, stop for a few moments, then continue...was quite possibly one of the worst times of my life.They gave me a shot of Demerol (another thing I thought I would never agree to,) to help me get through the next few hours.I was delirious and beyond uncomfortable.It wasn’t like the pain was gone; it felt more like it was beside me, just slightly out of my control and very frightening.

When I got on the operating table a few hours later, the spinal block was the most blessed relief I have ever felt in my life. It had been a total of 48 hours since we first came to the hospital, and I was more exhausted than I had ever been before or since.I fell promptly to sleep on the operating table, and slept for about half an hour while they pulled my baby out.The next thing I remember was the sound of my baby Erik- he didn’t cry right away, and they were worried about him at first, but then I heard this low cry.It was more like a little animal, a bear cub or a sheep, kind of low and growly.I began crying.They brought him to me but I couldn’t hold him right away, I could only put his cheek on mine.I was so happy to see him.Then they wheeled me out and put me in a recovery room, where I had to wait for an hour alone.I was dying to see my baby.Finally they wheeled me out and I got to hold him.He was 8 pounds 2 ounces, at two and a half weeks early!He had a massive cone on his head, from all the hours spent with his head wedged in my cervix.He was long and lean with big hands and feet- and beautiful.He was my baby boy.

That day had actually started out beautifully. I had woken up in a gorgeous hotel room with downy sheets, my kids next to me, and started the day by staring at the ocean from out balcony.We were attending a wedding in Uclulet, and it is a rare treat for us to stay in a hotel, never mind one with such a view.I was wearing perfume, a dress, even makeup, which is highly unusual for me as the mother of two little kids.I actually had to go out and BUY some makeup especially for the occasion, that's how seldom I wear it anymore.I felt... dare I say it... pretty.

The wedding itself was on the beach.It was a reunion of sorts, since I had known the bride and groom since high school, as well as many of the guests.It was misty and cold by the water, so I put sweatpants under my daughter's dress and sweaters over their fancy clothes.They looked like gypsies on the shore, rag tag and blowing in the wind.It was a Jewish ceremony, complete with Chuppa, or bridal canopy, and the breaking of the glass.The couple both work in film and theatre, and their friends are an eclectic group of beautiful people; not an ounce of fat anywhere to be seen.My husband wasn’t with me, he has been working away from home, so I felt somewhat lonely, and very much the Earth Mother with kids attached to me every which way.

It was later, at the reception, that I was approached by the father of the bride.I was holding a champagne glass, somewhat exhausted from the hike to and from the beach, and glad of the bubbly.“KATE, my darling!You look RADIANT!ARE YOU WITH CHILD??”First it must be said that the bride’s father is known for being eccentric.He’s a brilliant filmmaker, highly respected, funny, engaging and well loved by all.I am actually very fond of him myself.So what did I do?I laughed.I said, “No, I’m just a bit fat still, that’s all.”I swallowed.I turned red.I waited for him to turn red.He smiled at me warmly, patted me on the shoulder and moved on.

By then I was feeling decidedly fat.

We were seated in a banquet room.I learned that in the time it took for me to give birth to my two gorgeous children a friend of mine had trained to become quite a talented dancer.I should mention he also has two kids.Watching him move through the crowd, loping here and there like a teenage gazelle I have to admit to feeling MORE than a twinge of jealousy for the male condition.To experience the joys and trials of parenthood and yet maintain an unchanged physique must be pretty wonderful.If men are the ball point pens of parenthood then women are the charcoal.We smudge against the paper in the act of creating, changing our bodies and carving a new shape out of ourselves.We grow large, spidery veins appear, stretch marks like frost against the windowpane.We give birth, our bellies grow slack, our breasts engorge.We breastfeed, our breasts bruised and swollen, changed forever from what we remember.We mother with our whole bodies, like charcoal against a page, moving this way and that to create a better line, and in the process find our bodies indelibly altered.

Someone came around to offer wine, and as I lifted my glass I was startled to realize it was the father of the bride.He looked at me and said “None for you!No more wine for you!”I felt redness creep up on my face once again.He smiled, and I realized he must be going deaf.He hadn’t heard me tell him I wasn’t pregnant, and I was permanently assigned the label of Pregnant Guest for the rest of the evening.I was tempted to avoid him for the rest of the night.I was tempted to take a glass of wine to the bathroom so I could enjoy it in peace.

I had my two kids in tow, so of course any avoidance tactics would be quite ridiculous, as well as impossible.My kids were growing tired of the speeches, so I decided to take them outside.My son gathered pine cones and brought them back to me.He climbed a bench and leaped off, holding his arms out like wings.My daughter clung to my skirt, laughing and crowing at her brother.I felt the effects of the champagne, as well as my shame, evaporate into the night air.Soon we were lying together in a heap on the hotel bed.“Oop!Belly!” my daughter said as she pulled up my shirt exposing my mid section.She patted my belly with satisfaction and then pulled up her own shirt, patting her own belly.I felt a kind of joy that was almost tangible, a kind of love that came from my whole body.I realized that motherhood has indeed permanently changed me.

On my facebook site I asked the question: "Have you ever been mistaken for PREGNANT when you're NOT? Tell me about it! What did you do/say?"

A few people mentioned fertility issues, miscarriage etc, which made the pregnancy comments especially painful.What are your stories? Have you ever been assumed pregnant when not? Please share in the comments section!

Kate Hansen

I'm an artist and mother of two in Courtenay, BC. I've completed a project called the "Madonna and Child Project," and I'm now working on a series of roller derby inspired drawings. In my spare time I play roller derby with the Brick House Betties.